And that was her shame.
“You’re a vampire.”
Uh, yes, she knew that.
“Nicole …” He sighed out her name. “You’re supposed to like it.”
“Because vamps like the blood so much, that’s why they kill.” Why she’d had to fight her urges. “The schoolteacher I was … the woman who always got in by ten on a work night, she wouldn’t have—”
His fingers curled over hers. “Why do you keep talking as if she’s someone else?”
Her gaze lifted to his. Why couldn’t he see? “She was someone else. She was someone good.” She’d tried to be, anyway. Volunteering her time in afterschool programs. Donating canned goods for the homeless. Recycling for goodness’ sake. That woman had been good.
Not a killer.
Not a monster who lusted for blood. Who fought. Killed. Who licked her lips as she stood over a dead man and thought—
More.
No wonder the dreams wouldn’t stop. “That woman died in an alley,” she told him, holding his stare. Even if she hadn’t died then, she wouldn’t have made it through the year.
His hand skimmed down her arm. Slowly, his warm fingers rose to her chest and pressed over her heart. “If she’s dead, then why do I feel her heart beating?”
“I’m not the same person anymore. The things I did—” Not just the killing. But with Connor …
Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not the same.”
The warmth of his hand seeped into her skin. “You couldn’t be the same and keep surviving.”
She cracked open her eyes.
“The bloodlust is always strongest at first.” He rose, pushing up to sit beside her now. “I’ve seen it drive some crazy. They’d lose control and turn on anyone who came near.”
Nicole remembered that first, desperate hunger. The bite that she’d given the cop who’d come to her aid. “Yes.” She’d felt crazy then.
“You didn’t kill the cop you attacked.”
She shook her head. “It was a near thing. I … couldn’t stop.” She never wanted to feel like that again. So hungry—the hunger an ache that burned her whole body.
“You did stop.”
Her lashes lifted fully. “Barely.” She wouldn’t let him think she was something that she wasn’t. “I didn’t have the control. If I did, I wouldn’t have ever bitten him. I wouldn’t have listened to that voice in my head—I wouldn’t have killed.”
She had to get away from him. His touch made her weak, and she was already weak enough. Nicole jumped from the bed, yanking the sheet with her. “Angels are real.” She tossed that out at him and glanced back just in time to see him blink.
“Uh, yeah, we are.”
This was the part that scared her. “I knew that—I always knew that.” She’d been a good Catholic girl after all, before.
His head cocked as he watched her.
“Angels are real,” she said again. “And demons are real. That means after this life …” Already knew this. Always knew. Her knees locked. “After this life, there isn’t going to be any sunshine and paradise waiting for me.” Maybe if Keenan had taken her soul that long-ago night, but now …
He stared back at her. Didn’t deny her words.
No.
She choked down the very real fear in her throat. “I want a chance to make it up.” She sounded crazy, so what else was new? “I don’t want Az to take me, not until I’ve had a chance to make it up.”
He climbed from the bed and didn’t bother covering with a sheet. “You can’t bring back the dead.”
He’d know.
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “And Az isn’t taking you anyplace.”
Nicole could only shake her head. “Why?”
Keenan blinked at that. “Because you’re not ready to go, you don’t want—”
“No.” Her head shook again, fast, as her hair whipped around her face. “Why does it matter to you? Why do you care what happens to me?”
He gave another slow blink, then said, “I don’t know.”
Well, great. She turned away from him and grabbed for her clothes. Not like she’d expected some big declaration or anything. The guy didn’t know her, he hadn’t—
He fell for you.
Obviously, that was bull. She yanked on her panties and shoved into her bra.
“What I said … it angered you?”
Her lips pressed together as she snagged her jeans. Jeans he’d bought for her. “It confuses me.” Okay, that was a lie. Half-lie. He confused her and he made her damn angry.
She spun back to him, her shirt gripped in her hands. “You lost everything, you gave it all up, and you don’t even know why.”
I wasn’t worth it. The words just wouldn’t come out of her mouth. She wanted to say them, but couldn’t. She’d told him about her crimes, her needs. He should realize the truth for himself.
Maybe he did. Her shoulders slumped and her chin dipped. Maybe …
“For over two thousand years, I never felt anything.”
That had her head whipping up.
His eyes stared right at her, but Keenan didn’t actually seem to see her. “I saw babies born, parents die, wars, weddings, happiness, life. But I never felt a thing.”
His words were so cold she shivered.
“I only knew touch …” He lifted his hand and stared at his palm. “When I killed. And then, there was no warmth in the bodies. I took the warmth away before I even touched them.”
His hand fisted.
Silence.
What could she say? “Keenan …”
“I wanted more than that.”
Seemed only fair.
“Humans had more. Even the Other had more—and they were supposed to be the mistakes.”
Was that what she was now?
“Angels were created for a purpose. To protect. To guide. But not to feel.” His fist fell. “No sorrow. No pain. And no happiness either. Just … duty. Just … nothing.”
He stepped toward her. “I wanted more,” he said again. “I didn’t even realize it at first, but with every soul, I just—wanted more.”
Wanting. Didn’t he realize that was a form of feeling? Maybe the other angels hadn’t felt any emotions, but he had, and they’d driven him to the edge.
No, they’d driven him to fall.
“With you, I decided to take more.” His fingers curled around her chin, and he tipped her head back. “Silk,” he whispered. “Smooth, soft, and warm.”